The story of a man
by mediwitch3
Summary: This is the story of a man. Spencer Reid finds a baby on his doorstep. HOTCH/REID SLASH. don't like don't read. There will be jack and the rest of the team, but it's mostly Hotch/Reid/baby centric. Reviews keep me motivated! ;
1. Preface

This is the story of a man. He is no ordinary man, but really, with an IQ of 187, and eidetic memory, and the ability to read 20,000 words per minute, who could expect something so simple of him? In many ways, this man is extra ordinary.

There was a time in his life when he worked for the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the F. B. I. This man had to travel a lot, for his work profiling serial killers and rapists was very demanding. Thus it is not unusual that the members of his team quickly became his family. Being the youngest member of the group, the 6 of them became very protective of their young genius.

My Grandpa Dave, being the oldest, took on an almost fatherly role, taking the man under his wing when Jason Gideon didn't.

Uncle Derek became the older brother. He teased the man, set him up on dates, gave him advice, but ultimately grew to love and accept him, for any and all faults and advantages he may have had.

Auntie JJ and Auntie Emily were the big sisters. The man went to Auntie Jayj for hugs and Auntie Em for advice. It was not uncommon to see either one ruffling the man's hair or sitting on his desk talking to him in the bull pen of the BAU.

Auntie Penny is, if I had to pick, my favorite. She not only was like a sister to the man, she was the man's best friend. She teased him, joked with him, gave him advice and safety and love. They would go shopping, have dinner, watch movies. They'd pull pranks, and gossip, and share memories, while constantly competing for the title of "Smartest in the BAU". They laughed, they cried, they loved. Because she not only tolerated, she accepted: she _embraced_.

The final member of the man's team was a near mystery to him. SSA Aaron "Hotch" Hotchner. After the death of his late, ex-wife, Haley, he was rarely seen without a frown on his darkly handsome face. His life did not exist outside the BAU and his 5 year old son, Jack. He rarely shared information about his personal life, and when he did it wasn't anything earth-shattering. "I'm teaching Jack how to ride a bike", he'd say, or "Jack got a gold star on his homework". Always about Jack, which made sense, since his world revolved around his son. None-the-less, the man loved him dearly. The only person the man ever held in higher esteem was the man's own mother. And though Aaron Hotchner was hesitant at first, he soon grew to love the man as well.

The story of their love? Started with the ring of a doorbell, the click of a latch, and the gasp of surprise.

This is the story of a man.

This the story of his love.

This is the story of my father, Spencer Reid.


	2. Chapter 2

I'd just like to start by saying thank you to all those who subscribed to my story, and to CMAli 1 for the review. This is where the story begins. Enjoy and review. :)

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At 27, Spencer Reid was tall and gangly, looking more like a 14 year old boy, in some ways, than a 27 year old man. His straggly, long, curly, brown hair could often be seen being tucked impatiently behind one ear or the other. Though he viewed it as a nuisance, he was very attached to his hair. If you were to ask why he didn't just cut it off and be done with it, he'd likely offer some lame excuse, such as "It keeps me warm in the winter" or "I'm far too used to it, now. If I cut it off, I'll miss it!".

Around the winter months, he could be seen walking hurriedly from his car to the office, a purple scarf wrapped warmly around a long neck, soft jaw, and thin, pink lips. If you happened to have seen him on one such day, it is likely he may have crooked a long, slender finger and swiped at the small, pert nose on his face.

One thing to know about Spencer, is that he is a caffeine addict. He often would have up to five cups of coffee before lunch, and many more after that. When in the BAU, he was most commonly seem by the coffee maker, perhaps chatting with Emily Prentiss about controversy between Splenda and real sugar. Other times he could be seen squeezing in a few more case files before the briefing in ten or four or one minute. There was rarely a time when he wasn't working on a case, or briefing for a case, or reading (usually about a case). Spencer was an avid reader, and if you've ever seen him read, you know why.

And thus begins my story.

Spencer had just gotten home from a case. Tired though he was, his mind was unwilling to settle and continued to run the case details over and over. So, naturally, he picked up the most boring book he could think of: Twilight, which JJ had given him a little while back. After reading for a few minutes, he was asleep, Twilight, open to the last page, on his lap.

Some hours later, he started awake. Blearily, he looked around for his glasses while his mind woke up enough to tell him what that goddamn

_Ding-Dong_

was. He shoved glasses on his face and jumped up off the couch when the doorbell registered in his head. He hurried through his little two bedroom apartment, past the kitchen and the little half bathroom off to the side.

Upon opening the door, he was confused to find no one there. He glanced around bemusedly for a moment, before a rustle and a whimper at his feet drew his eyes downwards. A surprised gasp left his mouth and he fell backwards into his apartment, startled by the little bundle at his feet. Recovering quickly from his shock, he reached down and lifted the mewling infant from the stoop. He hushed and crooned awkwardly to it until it's weeping stopped. He made to move gently back inside the house, but as he was doing so, an envelope fluttered to the floor.

_Dear Dr Spencer Reid, _

_I know this will come off as a shock, but this baby is in your custody until further notice. I trust you will care well for the child, and as proof of my faith in your abilities, the duty naming him is yours. _

_Good luck, you will hear from me again soon, Anonymous_

_ P. S. I'm not an unsub, there's no need to profile this letter. _

_P. P. S. My regards to Agent Hotchner. _

Spencer glared at the letter before stuffing it in his pocket. He was angry, he was confused, he was scared, and he was _freaking_ out. He didnt know how to take care of a baby! Henry was scary enough, now he had to take care of one of his own!

On the verge of a panic attack, he ran into the kitchen and got a picnic basket. Padding it down with blankets, he gently lay the infant down. He then proceeded to carefully lift the considerably heavier basket, grab his wallet, keys, and jacket, before hurrying out the door. He climbed into the car, buckling the basket into the passenger seat, before starting the car and backing into the road. It was only as he was pulling into the driveway, did it occur to him that he had ended up at Hotch's house.


	3. Chapter 3

Spencer sat in the driveway for what seemed like forever, debating whether or not to go inside. It seemed ridiculous to him, coming to Hotch's house at, _God, was it 2 in the morning already? _But he was really desperate.

Sighing heavily, he unbuckled himself and the basket in turn, and hurried to the door. He hesitated a moment, finger poised above the doorbell, before a whimper sounded from inside the basket, effectively startling him into action.

Ringing could be heard through the door, and mid-_Clang_, the infant in the basket began to wail. Upon hearing the screeching, Spencer nearly dropped the basket. He lifted the screaming child, holding it awkwardly away from his body. As the infant's sobs grew steadily in volume, he began to panic, bouncing him slightly, in hopes that the tears would stop.

He almost didn't hear the click of the door over the baby's cries. He glanced up, noticing Hotch standing there, wearing flannel bottoms, naked from the waist up, looking sleepy and shocked. Spencer held the baby out.

"Help?" He asked, wincing as his voice cracked. He cleared his throat self-consciously, and Hotch sighed, reaching for the hysterical newborn. Some of the sleepiness cleared from his face as he held the baby close to his body and rocked him gently. The yowling diminished slowly, and then stopped altogether as the child drifted off to sleep.

Hotch looked up from the slumbering innocent. Making eye contact with Spencer, he gestured inside. Spencer shuffled uncouthly from one foot to the other, before nodding slightly. Hotch smiled gently before stepping aside to allow Spencer's entrance into his home.

Spencer had been to Hotch's house before, briefly, when Haley died, and he was sad to see it was almost exactly the way it was all those months ago.

"Your jacket and basket can go over on the couch," Hotch whispered, "then follow me,".

Spencer complied, dropping the basket on the seat of the black, leather couch, before following Hotch up stairs, down the hall, and up the stairs again to the attic. Spencer looked around disgustedly; he hated attics. Though, as far as attics went, this one was relatively clean—cluttered and a little dusty, but not moldy or anything.

"Er, Hotch? Why are we in here?" Spencer grimaced as he tripped on a bookcase, watching Hotch move around the space with ease—while holding a baby, to boot.

"Looking for Jack's old baby things. Haley always kept them, in case she ever had another baby, and when she—," here he tooka a steadying breath, "when Foyett... Happened, I couldn't bear to throw them away,".

He stopped in front of a multitude of boxes, a cradle, a folded playpen and changing table, and to the far right, against the wall, the disassembled crib. Hotch turned to Spencer with a slightly amused look.

"Alright, so, you're going to have to hold him while I take the cradle downstairs. Then we can leave him there with a monitor and sift through these boxes for some of the necessities," He said, softly. Spencer began to panic again. His eyes widened.

"What! But what if I drop him? What if I _break_ him? What if he starts crying _again_!"

Hotch almost laughed at Spencer's apparent fear of babies. He put a warm hand on Spencer's shoulder and he relaxed almost instantly. His gaze softened slightly.

"Here, hold out your hands, I'll show you how to hold him," Hotch gently put the child in Spencer's arms, carefully arranging them just so. He chuckled lightly at the look of sheer terror on Spencer's face.

"Relax, or he'll start crying again. Don't worry about dropping him, just take comfort in him. Hear his breathing, look, he's not dead yet—you're doing fine," He gave Spencer a small smile. He then began sifting through the box labeled "room stuff", coming out with two monitors. Turning them on, he dropped them in the cradle, which he then began to wheel toward the stairs.

Spencer swallowed before following carefully. He picked his way around the odd ends and boxes. When he got downstairs, Hotch was waiting for him. They set off again down the hall, this time at the same pace until Hotch steered the cradle into a room to the right.

"Welcome to the guest bedroom! This is where you'll be staying tonight—er... This morning. After we're done, you can borrow something to sleep in. So vamonos!" Hotch grabbed the monitors, placing one on the table near the cradle, and taking one with him. Spencer gently lay the sleeping child down, before hurrying after Hotch.

As they walked down the hallway, again, Spencer realized that Hotch was much more jovial, one could say _insane, _when woken up at 2am by a near paedophobic genius with a baby. Speaking like Dora, smiling, he was even _chuckling _for god's-sake! This was ridiculous! But not unwelcome: he wasn't about to turn down help when Hotch seemed so willing. He cataloged these experiences away for later contemplation.

"D'you mind telling me where the kid came from?" Hotch's voice sounded from beside him. Spencer looked at him, startled by the sudden question, but reached into his pocket and pulled out the letter. Hotch read quickly, his eyebrow raising at the second post-script. He looked up at Spencer, but he just shrugged. "Well, have you at least given any thought to what you'll call him?" Hotch looked at Spencer curiously. He thought about it for a moment.

"Well, Benjamin would make sense. It was a name typically given to boys without mothers, usually ones who died in child birth. Since I know nothing about his family or where he came from, and for the time he'll be staying with me he won't exactly have a mom, so... " Spencer realized he was rambling and cut himself off quickly, snapping his mouth shut. They had by now ascended the stairs to the attic, and were making their way back to the baby things. Once they reached their destination, they each took a box, Hotch grabbing "clothes", while Spencer took "bath". They searched in silence for about an hour, Spencer coming up with an unopened bag of diapers, a baby bath, and six unopened bottles of Johnson baby wash, whereas Hotch had obtained a considerable amount of clothes for newborns. Hotch stood up, groaning as his back popped loudly.

"Alright, it's, god, 3:30 already. I think it's time for bed. Get the diapers and whatever else you've got there, we'll have to change Ben's diaper before we actually sleep. You have to change their diaper pretty frequently, or they'll get a rash," They both went downstairs. After a very awkward diaper change, which included Spencer getting peed on, Hotch laughing hysterically, and Spencer giving him a very rude hand signal, Spencer had changed into a pair of too big, flannel, pijama bottoms and an old F.B.I. t-shirt that was falling off his shoulders. He got into bed in Hotch's guest bedroom at 4:02am, falling asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, wondering how his life had turned out this way.

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Well, this is considerably longer than both chapters one and two. This will probably be the last update for a few days, because I have finals on Wednesday and Thursday, and I have 2 projects due Monday, so there won't be much time. But after finals I'll have a 4 day weekend, so I'll hopefully get more updated then. Don't forget to review. :)


	4. Chapter 4

Hey! Gosh, it's been a while! Sorry about that, I've been really busy. But on the bright side: my finals are over, I'm starting a new semester tomorrow, and you guys get an extra long chapter! I'll be back soon. Don't forget to review! :)

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"_He's everything you want,_

_He's everything you need,_

_He's everything inside of you that you wish you could be,_

_He says all the right things, at exactly the right time,_

_But he—_"

"—Hello. . . ?" Spencer spoke groggily into the receiver of his cell phone. He rubbed a hand over his face and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He listened carefully as JJ told him about the women who had been dropped by the side of the road.

"Yeah, JJ, I'll be in as soon as I can," He stood up, glancing at the clock whose glaring red letters read 7:23am. He went to look in the cradle, before a knock sounded from the door. Spencer looked up as Hotch came in the door.

"I'm having you stay behind. I'm assuming you'd rather the team didn't know, just yet? I'll tell them the last case was stressful on your knee; you can stay with Garcia. I'm off to drop Jack with Jess, just head over to the BAU when you're ready," Hotch handed him a diaper bag and car seat and then took off, leaving Spencer no room to argue.

Spencer moved around the room, changing clothes before changing Ben. He put diapers in the bag, also finding baby wipes, baby powder, and twelve bottles of formula. It struck Spencer that Hotch must have been awake for a while if he had time to prepare this. He strapped Ben into the car seat, picking it and the diaper bag up, and going to the car. He put the car seat in the back and got in himself. He turned on the ignition, looking up when his phone buzzed.

_New Message From:_

_Hotch_

He opened the text, which read:

_Wheels up_

Smiling at the clear signal that it was safe in the bullpen, Spencer backed out of the driveway and headed to the BAU. Spencer stood nervously outside Garcia's lair. He had to go in sometime, if he wanted to help with the case. So, he took a steadying breath, and knocked on the door with the hand not holding Ben's car seat.

"Enter. . ." Garcia's sinister voice sounded from within. Spencer gulped and pushed the door open to reveal Garcia, in all her purple-lipped glory, staring him down, fingers poised together like a villain waiting for the princess to stumble into its lair. Why Spencer was equating himself with a princess, he'd never know. His musings were interrupted by Garcia's squeal of delight. She lunged out of her chair, kneeling in front of the car seat.

"Reid! He's so cute! What's his name? Can I hold him?" Garcia looked up at him pleadingly.

"Er, sure? His name's Ben." He watched awkwardly as Garcia unstrapped Ben, who had woken up at the sound of her squealing. He blinked up at her for a minute, before his eyes welled with tears, and he began to howl. Garcia looked startled for a minute, then handed the wailing infant to Spencer, who had dropped the diaper bag and car seat on the floor. He held the baby close to his chest, swaying slightly and whispering to him. Not long after entering Spencer's embrace did the sobs subside. Ben hiccoughed twice before gurgling and reaching for Spencer's face with chubby fingers.

"There now, that's better. What's gotten into you? Garcia's not a bad-guy! Sorry, Garcia, I didn't expect him to be like that," He offered Garcia an apologetic smile. She grinned back at him and waved it off.

"Nonsense! Lil' peanut's just partial to his daddy, is all! No harm done!"

Spencer frowned.

"But he had no problem with Hotch," Garcia's eyes lit up upon hearing this.

"Hotch held him! When did Hotch have a chance to hold him?" She questioned eagerly. Spencer sighed and sat in the chair Garcia wasn't currently occupying.

"I stayed over his place last night," He stated wearily. Garcia's gasp of delight alerted him to what he'd just said. He quickly attempted to make amends.

"No! No, not—no, Garcia! I was flipping out, 'cause I had this baby, and I don't know what to do with a baby! So I went to Hotch for help! And we were up all night looking for baby clothes in his attic, and he showed me how to change a diaper, and I got peed on, and then it was late, so he lent me some pajamas, and I slept in the guest bedroom—and dammit stop smirking!" Garcia's smirk only widened at the flushing, glaring, rambling boy-genius in front of her.

"Why didn't you go to JJ's? She has a baby," Spencer spluttered for a minute, Garcia reveling in his discomfort.

"Because—because the letter! The letter said 'my regards to Agent Hotchner'!" He then thrust the letter triumphantly in her face. She read it over, a perfectly sculpted eyebrow raising with each line. She looked up when she finished, smiling at the sight of Spencer rocking the car seat with his foot, Ben sleeping soundly in it.

"Well, that's quite a predicament you've got there," She said quietly, handing the letter back to him. Spencer rolled his eyes.

"Tell me about it. But Garcia, can you not tell anyone about this just yet? I wanna be a little more used to it before the team knows," Garcia smiled and saluted him.

"Your secret's safe with me, Junior G-man," She told him fondly. He grinned a little at the nickname, but winced slightly at the shrill ring of the telephone. Garcia rolled back over to her screens and hit the answer button on her phone. She huffed into the receiver.

"You guys have terrible timing! Me and Reid were getting down and dirty, and now you've ruined the moment!" She glanced back at Spencer.

"Garcia! We were not! Don't spread lies!" He exclaimed, scandalized. A deep chuckle sounded from the phone in the corner, and Spencer realized Garcia had put the phone on speaker.

"You guys do realize. . . Hotch just chuckled," JJ's voice drifted through the receiver.

"I guess he does have a sense of humor," Morgan said amusedly.

"You'd be surprised," Rossi chortled.

"Enough about my sense of humor! Garcia, I need you to look something up for me," Hotch's commanding tones made Spencer relax a little. The boss voice was normal, it was safe. He listened quietly to Hotch and Garcia go back and forth for a minute, lulled by Hotch's low tones. Garcia glanced back at the sleeping Spencer, smiling softly.

"Garcia. . . ?" Hotch asked, slightly impatiently.

"Sorry, sir—the files are coming your way," She whispered.

". . . Why are you whispering?"

"Reid's asleep, sir. It seems he had a late night," She smirked at the end of her sentence. A sigh resonated around the room.

"Good, I don't think he's been getting much sleep at all recently. How're. . . Er, _things_? How's his, uh, _knee_?" Hotch winced at how awkward his voice sounded, pointedly ignoring the weird looks Morgan and Prentiss were giving him. He could hear the sly smile in Garcia's voice when she answered.

"_Things_ are fine. The way he favors his _knee_ is the cutest thing. He's resting it right now, but when he first came in, I tried to touch it and it spasmed. It was amazing how fast he calmed it down. You have nothing to worry about, sir! Both Reid and Reid's _knee_ are fine. Garcia—out," there was a click and the dial tone reigned as the line went dead. Hotch looked up at his team, recoiling slightly at all the looks he was receiving.

"Since when do you make a point of checking up on Reid?" Morgan eyed him skeptically. Hotch shrugged.

"I don't know! Does it really matter?"

Morgan glanced at the rest of the team.

"Yes," they all said in unison. He sighed.

"Look, it shouldn't make a difference to you guys whether or not I check up on Reid. I'd appreciate it if the unnecessary inferences would stop. We have a killer to catch, you don't need to distract yourselves by profiling me. So, unless you have something to tell me relating to the case, then get back to work," He looked pointedly at Morgan, who looked like he might protest, and then stalked off to get some coffee.

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Don't forget to review! :)


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